


As the Whills will it

by tehnakki



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:58:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9264821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehnakki/pseuds/tehnakki
Summary: Set 19 years before Rogue One, two Guardians continue their training.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet inspired by stupidlullabies gorgeous art post on tumblr! Please go look at it and feel feelings =) [http://stupidlullabies.tumblr.com/post/155565863522/](http://stupidlullabies.tumblr.com/post/155565863522/note-to-self-disable-flux-before-you-start)
> 
>  
> 
> I’m beyond-obsessed with the idea that the Guardians of the Whills don’t have a true anti-attachment clause like the Jedi do. Why would they? So many of Jedi rules that are sacrosanct by the time of the Republic are from the pared down version of the code, so why would the Guardians of the Whills--people who are dedicating their lives to protecting the earliest version of Jedi--give one fuck about the changes to Jedi code?
> 
> Anyways, this is just to say that I’m hella sure their fellow guardians knew chirrut and baze were together and thought it was adorable.

The Guardians of the Whills were taught from a young age, similar to that of their jedi cousins. Parents with too many mouths to feed or devout pilgrims to the temple on Jedha would inevitably leave behind a child or two every month. The order was a strenuous one, but not insurmountably so. 

And similar to how the jedi used movements to inform thoughts, the guardians believed in reaching to the force through movements. The dawn hours were spent in still prayer, and the day was spent in motion: drills and katas, first barehanded, then with weapons, and finally with partners. The movements of defense and attack, spun out of the force hundreds of centuries before by the Whills themselves and passed on to their Guardians. Katas that were unchanged for millennia, except to conform to the bodies and ligaments of it’s practitioners. That unending chain of motion, of attack and defense, fight and retreat, save and protect. That was the chain that bound the Guardians to the living force. It flowed through them as they moved. They were one with the force, and the force was with them. The air was thick with it’s sluggish movements in the almost abandoned practice room in the heart of the temple. Two Guardians whirled in a fierce battle, brown skin shining under sweat in the dim recessed light. Bare feet flying over the floor more than stepping, the whisper of cloth from their loose pants. A fight of silent whills.

Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus moved swiftly through their final katas. Wooden staves meeting in the tenderest of kisses with every swing and block. The final kata was meant to be performed soundlessly and at an intense speed, two things that through their diverging needs could bring the wielder closer to the force. The closing steps of the kata brought the two men blade to blade, chest to chest, in a whisper of touches as their movement stilled the loudest sound in the room was their laud but controlled breathing. The moment stretched towards infinity… and Chirrut stumbled falling against Baze as he overstretched unconsciously trying to keep the feeling in the now.

Their staves clattered loudly together and Baze groused as lowered his blade without stepping away from Chirrut, “Every time! We’ll never pass this kata if you do this every time. You have to stay in the _Now_ , you can’t go chasing after it! It’ll always slip through your grasp.”

Chirrut dropped his head to Baze’s collarbone and let out a quiet laugh. “Ah but my friend, if you would just reach with me, maybe we could hold on to it?” He loosened his grip and let the staff slide through his hand till it rested on the floor. “We should meditate on what we did right and wrong during this session.”

“What you did wrong, you mean.” Baze grumbled, even as his free hand came to rest on the hot, damp skin of Chirrut’s waist. He tugged gently at his friend as he walked backwards to the side of the room, out of line of sight of the doorway. “I was holding up my end of finally getting us through this damned kata. You know children can finish this one without messing up?” His back came to rest against the stone wall and he leaned in to the cool stone, letting it soothe the muscles that were tense from the fight even has he pulled Chirrut closer to his chest.

“Is it messing up? To rise to meet the living force flowing around us?” Chirrut raised his head and turned his sightless eyes on Baze’s face. The full force of his passion and belief obvious. ”I do not think so. If the katas are meant to utilise the force, then we should be able to utilise the katas to feel the force.” Even through his shining devotion, Chirrut’s fingers made quick work of the ties holding Baze’s pants around his hips. Letting the fabric slither down his legs to pool at his ankles.

Baze shuddered at the feel of Chirrut’s hands darting across his skin, his grip tightening on the woodenstaff he still held in his hand. “Bah. Again with this. You are not a Jedi, Chirrut. The force isn’t here for your beck and call.” With one hand he fumbled with the ties on Chirruts gi, and with the other he stretched out his arm to leave his staff leaning carefully against the wall. With both hands free he quickly had Chirrut disrobed pressed against him from hip to chest.

They moved as one being, kneeling and until Baze was sitting against the wall, his legs stretched in front of him and Chirrut kneeling over his thighs, scant inches separating their bodies. Chirrut dropped his staff with a clatter and sank his hands into Baze’s hair kissing him like it was the first time all heat and passion, Baze opened his mouth to let Chirrut in. Their tongues and lips meeting in brushing, darting touches. He stroked his hand down Chirrut’s back, feeling the flex of his muscles, the cooling damp of his skin. Chirrut pulled back slightly, letting his head rest against Baze’s forehead as he slid a fractional measure closer so their cocks just brushed in the lightest of touches. They both let out long moans as their sensitised flesh pressed together. 

Chirrut slow moved his hips, rubbing the length of their cocks together. Tilting his hips, Chirrut caressed the full length of Baze’s cock with his own, halting only as the tip of Baze’s cock smeared his stomache with a drop of precum. Baze hands clenched spasmodically on his back trying to draw him closer and Chirrut grinned that wicked sly grin of his halted his movement and picked up the thread of their forgotten conversation, “One does not need to be a jedi to feel the touch of the divine. Meditation proves that!”

Baze rolled his eyes and dropped his hand from Chirrut’s back to reach between them and grasp both their cocks in his large hand. He stroked their heated skin together in a long slow pull as he growled “This does not count as meditation!” with the hand on Chirrut’s neck he pulled him in for another long kiss. From past experience he knows if he let’s Chirrut control the encounter, they’ll still be arguing 15 minutes from now, still hard, and chilled from the cold stone. 

Chirrut seems content to let him avoid that fate today, surging into the kiss and the tight grip of his fist. Moving with a sense of purpose to mouth at the join of Baze’s neck, his back bowed as he tried to kiss and touch all of Baze that he could reach. Baze held tight to both of them as their pleasure surged and peaked. The relentless motion of their bodies seemed to still for one endless moment, their breathes caught in their chests as their hearts beat in unison with themselves with something else… a living, beating pulse of the universe.

They fell towards each other, orgasms flooding through them as their bodies shuddered under the onslaught of Baze’s hand. Foreheads pressed together, sharing breath as they refound their own bodies. With a soft, breathless laugh, Chirrut pressed a soft kiss to the tip of Baze’s nose laughing to himself as he staggered to his feet and wandered the couple feet to their training supplies to grab a towel and their water bottle before returning to the warm seat of Baze’s thighs.

Baze cracked an eye to glare at his partner's characteristic giddiness post orgasm, snatched the prooffered towel to clean his hand and stomach. As Chirrut sank onto his lap again, he grabbed him and held him tight to his chest. Pressing his face to Chirrut’s neck and just breathing him in as the post-orgasm haze faded. Chirrut was humming quietly to himself, stroking Baze’s hair and neck as Baze recentered himself in the moment. As the chill of the rock he was pressed against finally intruded on his awareness, Baze lifted his head for a last kiss from his smiling fool of a friend, and let his arms fall away as Chirrut rose to his feet and started flailing about for the fabric of his pants. Baze leaned forward to catch his hand and guide it to the fabric on the floor and then slowly stood, hitching up his pants from where they still twisted about his ankles. 

They dressed in almost silence, and Baze collected their training staffs and gear while Chirrut made himself presentable. When his friend was ready he tossed him his staff and the two made their way to the door of the training salle, Baze hitting the light switch as Chirrut got the door for him. 

The hallway was empty as they walked purposefully to their next destination (their room for clean robes and then the cantina for lunch) and only encountered a Master Sage as they entered the living quarters. Baze caught Chirrut’s arm to stop him before he walked into the older woman--Chirrut had a bad habit of running into people out of sheer mischief and Baze learned long ago that he couldn’t trust his friend to be sensible--and they bowed politely as the Master looked them over. 

“Practicing the final kata again, I see. Have you sorted your issues with overreaching the moment, Sage Initiate Imwe?”

Chirrut put on a mask of contriteness and quietly responded, “No Master, I still find myself reaching for the living force in the final steps. But Guardian Malbus is helping me find the path.”

Baze barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes at Chirrut’s pretense, but he nodded politely and added “Additional post-kata meditation seems to be helping.”

The Master looked for long moments into Chirrut’s and Baze eyes, face solemn and thoughts impenetrable, before nodding to both of them and turning to continue on her way. Chirrut and Baze both bowed low and were rising to continue to their rooms when the master's voice drifted back to them sly and with a hint of laughter “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

Baze stared wide eyed after her, almost falling out of his bow. Chirrut straightened up and burst into loud delighted laughter. Baze glared at his friend and grabbed him by the wrist to drag him the final steps to their room, hastily shutting the door before anyone else could see him and his cackling loon of a lover before they’d cleaned up and had a long talk (again) about not making their relationship the gossip of the temple!

**Author's Note:**

> I’m beginning to wonder if I’m a tad over focused on them having sex after/during meditation. But I like to think I convey at least a sense that this isn’t their normal? That for ever “happy meditation ending” there was a thousand where they finished the kata and moved on to the next task and the next step in the unending path of a Guardian of the Whills. That their times fucking could fill a buck from an ocean of their time spent in each others company.


End file.
